


The Room of Hidden Feelings

by grace_lou_freebush



Series: Ten Months [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Big Dick Draco, Companion Piece to Ten Months, Dirty Talk, Draco Malfoy is a Tease, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, The Room of Hidden Things, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex, bb Dom!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27216124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grace_lou_freebush/pseuds/grace_lou_freebush
Summary: Companion piece to Ten Months. A peek into what happens after Harry and Draco duel in the bathroom. PWP with feelings."She held onto her whimper but couldn't stop herself from swaying forward with him as he sent both their ties dancing through the air to join his robes at the tower of chairs. She was mesmerised, like a snake bending to the whims of her charmer.Her eyelids fluttered when his hands returned to her, gripping her hips. His face canted down to hers, and she met him halfway. Their lips collided, frenzied to feel more of each other, moving in tandem as if they were one mind.A rush of delirium washed over Hermione. Her heart swelled in her chest as she met his mouth, his tongue, his fervor, mirroring him with a naturalness that made her forget who she was and why they'd never done this before."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Ten Months [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986979
Comments: 15
Kudos: 148





	The Room of Hidden Feelings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aneiria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/gifts).



> For my very dear friend, [Aneiria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria); sorry it took me so long to finish, and thank you for your help on the beta front!
> 
> This is a companion piece to my short fic [Ten Months](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937691). It's not a sequel but a "hidden" scene, so I HIGHLY recommend reading Ten Months first!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy! All remaining errors are my own.

“Are you alright? Of course you’re alright; Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t discharge you unless you were perfectly fit. But Harry told me about what he’d done, and I can’t _believe_ he would use a spell from that _book_! I’ve been telling him all _year_ not to trust it, and _now_ look what he’s done! I’ve been worried sick, but of course I couldn’t say anything or visit you to make sure, and are you sure you’re alright?”

Hermione’s words rushed out in an endless stream as she scrambled around the last turn in the labyrinth created by ruined furniture, discarded trinkets, and lost apparel before the Vanishing Cabinet came into view. Draco was already there, as she expected, turning back towards the entrance as she announced her presence, eyes wide and dumbfounded.

“What? Yes, I’m right as wandwork; how did you—? I have guards posted—”

“Oh, Crabbe and Goyle? They weren’t a problem. A little Dreamless Sleep in a couple of tarts, just like Second Year. But nevermind about them, are you sure you’re okay?” She reached for him on instinct.

"Second—? You know what, nevermind." Draco's chest expanded with a deep, exasperated breath, the hand Hermione had resting above his heart rising steadily. "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks to Snape." Here his voice dropped to a growl.

Hermione knew why. He was convinced Professor Snape was trying to "steal his glory" by finishing his task for him. She had chosen to keep her lips firmly shut on the recurring subject after a rather explosive fight had manifested when she'd suggested Draco let him. She assumed Dumbledore had set Professor Snape on a similar task to her own but couldn't admit as much to Draco. So, rather than rehashing old arguments, she held her tongue.

"I was so scared my best friend killed my— killed you," she admitted instead, voice small and wide, brown eyes studying his flinty greys. His shoulders relaxed infinitesimally.

"I'm fine now. Minimal scarring thanks to essence of dittany."

A small part of her mind filed that information away _just in case_. 

"I'm… I'm sorry I wasn't here for you - before. I didn't know how—" A rising lump in her throat cut the words short. Her vision blurred, the steady set of Draco's eyes and perpetual frown on his lips wavering as a tear escaped, rolling down her cheek and clinging to her jaw.

The warmth of a hand brushed her face, and her eyes shuttered closed, her lids heavy with warring regret and relief.

"This was not your fault." His words rumbled through his chest, and Hermione felt them more than heard them. They travelled through her open palm straight to her heart where she clutched onto them in search of forgiveness. Her hand clenched in the expensive fabric of Draco's tailored robes. She leaned her head forward to tuck herself into his chest.

The hand on her cheek shifted along her hairline to the centre of her back between her shoulder blades to hold her against his frame. The slight tremor in his shoulders as he transitioned them into a tight embrace told her that he needed the comfort as much as she did.

They hadn't been physical much, besides a few kisses, to this point - there had always been too much stress to finish his "project" to lend to any dalliances - but Hermione knew how her head slotted perfectly under Draco's chin. She knew the feel of his lips buried in the chaotic curls collected on her crown. She knew the strength of his hands and the strum of his heart.

She'd almost lost that.

She'd known in April, right as she prepared to leave their private, little hideout where they squirrelled away all their secrets, that she'd fallen for the enemy. For the complex, intelligent, wayward Pureblood boy: for Draco Malfoy. She'd admitted it to herself as she walked out the door for the first time in eight months. But she hadn't told him; she took her forbidden feelings, folded them up, and dropped them in the entryway of the Room of Hidden Things like all of the other lost, forgotten, and unwanted possessions. She was prepared to forget him, to move on.

But Harry couldn't let his _obsession_ with Draco go, and the boy she loved had attempted to use an Unforgivable on her best friend while her best friend had nearly succeeded in killing the boy she loved.

"No. This was _Harry's_ fault," Hermione spat venomously, scowling into Draco's Slytherin tie. "He _never_ listens to me, no matter how many times I'm right! I _told_ him not to worry about you, to focus on - other things - instead of following you around the castle on some harebrained mission to get you expelled! And _then_ he just had to use a Dark spell that he'd read out of that _stupid_ bo—"

"Can we _not_ talk about Potter right now?" Draco interrupted Hermione's rant. The familiar faux-patience he used when she let herself get carried away in their discussions rang through his words, and he separated their bodies to raise an eyebrow at her.

Uncomfortable warmth rushed up Hermione's neck to colour her cheeks dark.

"Of- of course! Sorry! I didn't m—" Once again Draco cut off her words, this time sealing her lips shut with his.

The flush from moments before shot through her veins in a completely different manner, rocketing with the speed of her heartbeat to the tips of her toes and the roots of her hair. She relaxed wholly into Draco's arms. His hands gripped her shoulders as if she anchored him to the earth, and his blazing heat permeated her school robes to fan the flames already awoken inside her.

Draco insistently moved his lips against Hermione's, deepening their kiss until she opened her mouth to breathe. He was there, though, slipping his tongue against hers, tasting her, delving deeper into her. She gasped around him, and he skated his lips across her jaw to the hollow behind her ear. She clung to him to ground herself in reality.

She'd only felt the electricity that sparked from that spot on her neck once before, with Viktor, but that moment was expunged from her memory as Draco keened into her ear. Hermione shivered. She fisted her hands in his robes, leveraging herself onto her toes, closer to the feel of his mouth, closer to him.

Draco's hands encircled her waist, moulding their bodies together as he nestled his face into her hair, lips still traversing the planes of her neck.

Hermione whispered his name, a prayer uttered as a plea for more. She was in love with him, and here was proof that he wanted her, physically at the least. She wouldn't have been able to find the will to stop him if he'd chosen The Great Hall at dinnertime to devour her.

As his head moved further south, sneaking into the collar of her uniform, her hands travelled up. One anchored itself in the downy, fine hair at the nape of his neck, and the other latched onto the knot of his tie, tugging at it until the ends hung loose. The need to touch him, feel him dominated her every thought and action.

The hands at her waist crept up to pull at her robes, so Hermione let her arms fall, allowing the garment to flutter to the floor. In response, she slipped her hands between the heavy fabric of his outer robes and the wool of his vest, pushing back until the black robes slipped over his shoulders.

A heady eagerness seeped into Hermione's veins, filling her with a demanding anticipation at the feel of Draco's firm shoulders beneath her palms. Love and lust melded together as her secret desires for him swirled together in her mind until her thoughts were consumed with removing as many layers as possible and feeling his strong body merge with hers. Her breath came to her in heavy gasps as she caressed and nudged his robes down his back as far as she could reach.

Catching her intentions, Draco complied, sliding them down his arms until he caught them by the neck. With a flick of his wrist, they floated to a stack of chairs, hanging themselves neatly on a broken spindle, a direct antithesis of her own robes crumpled at their feet.

"Show off," she muttered. A low chuckle and a smirk were his only response before he turned his attention to her tie. Gently sliding his finger down the red and gold fabric, the knot magically kept pace with his movement. His eyes never left hers, and she felt her nipples stiffen and her knickers soak in response.

She held onto her whimper but couldn't stop herself from swaying forward with him as he sent both their ties dancing through the air to join his robes at the tower of chairs. She was mesmerised, like a snake bending to the whims of her charmer.

Her eyelids fluttered when his hands returned to her, gripping her hips. His face canted down to hers, and she met him halfway. Their lips collided, frenzied to feel more of each other, moving in tandem as if they were one mind.

A rush of delirium washed over Hermione. Her heart swelled in her chest as she met his mouth, his tongue, his fervor, mirroring him with a naturalness that made her forget who she was and why they'd never done this before.

Draco's hands kneaded the flesh above her hips before skimming along the curve of her arse. His grip brought their hips together, and Hermione felt his rigid length press into her abdomen. Desire swirled at the point of contact, demanding she bring them closer together.

Her hands sprang to his trousers, and using a bit of magic of her own, she had them unbuttoned, unzipped, and shoved down to his knees in seconds. Stepping away from her for a moment, Draco kicked off all his clothing from the waist down before tugging his vest over his head and discarding every article he had been wearing to the growing pile on the chairs. His crisp, white button-up was the last to sail away.

Hermione's gaze dropped down his torso to drink in his figure, but before she could catch more than a lean column of marble-white skin, Draco's lust-filled face crowded her vision again, pulling her scrutiny away from his person. His lips met hers in another bruising kiss, and her hands floundered over so much exposed skin: down his back, over his arse, around his stomach, and up his thick erection.

Draco's guttural groan flooded Hermione's mouth, and the wave of satisfaction that washed through her had her stomach clenching and fist tightening around his cock.

Suddenly impassioned, Draco blindly shoved her vest and shirt up by the hem until her bra was exposed. His fingers slipped into the cotton cups, grasping her breasts until he found purchase on her nipples. Once he succeeded in trapping them between his nimble thumbs and forefingers, he pinched the sensitive flesh into tight buds, rolling them until they were stiff. Hermione cried out at the intense pleasure, her hips rocking forward desperately chasing some form, _any_ form, of friction, to no avail.

Draco released one breast to reach down, hitching her skirt up so he could squeeze his hand between her legs and rub her through her knickers. As she opened her thighs to give him more room, she threw her arms around his neck, practically hanging off of him as her legs no longer seemed to want to hold her up.

Draco stroked along her seam, soaking her knickers as she became wetter and wetter. Hermione's ears filled with the thumping of her heart and the ragged gasps of her breaths. Her skin prickled with the building static that crackled through her body; focused sparks zapped to life at her apex where the steady caress continued and flowed to her extremities. 

The titillating charge grew and grew until Hermione whimpered into Draco's ear, begging and pleading for more. He sucked his way down her neck, lips probing for every spot that made her mewl as his fingers slid up and down, up and down, up and down her ruined knickers.

If this continued forever, Hermione agonized, she would go insane. Yet Draco seemed in no rush to proceed further. With extreme effort, she focused her mind away from the electric sensations making her knees quiver and onto a plan to encourage Draco along. Somehow, despite the distracting ministrations threatening to overtake her focus, Hermione managed to slip off her shoes and work her socks off her feet.

"Draco, please. I can't. _Please_ , it's not enough. I need you. All of you."

At last, her desperate, sobbing pleas convinced Draco to pause long enough to remove her knickers and skirt, and while he busied himself with that task, she swiftly discarded her vest, shirt, and bra.

"I saw— a bed— somewhere… over there…" Draco didn't deign to point in any direction, however, as his gaze fixated on her bare breasts, and Hermione wasn't keen to go hunting down any mysterious furniture in any case. Her veins were liquid fire, and her core throbbed with need, the lull doing nothing to quench the roaring lust racing through her.

"No. Here. Now," she gasped, pivoting them and backing herself up to the sturdy cabinet, coaxing Draco along with her until she was flattened against the dark wood with him flush against her, tawny skin pressed against his pale complexion.

The cabinet was cool on her back, but Draco's heat permeated through any initial discomfort. Coiling her arms around his neck, Hermione hooked her knee over his hip, opening herself to him. His cock bumped against her clit, and she moaned.

Instead of lining up and sliding himself in, however, he slipped his hand between them to tease her dripping slit with his fingers. Hermione could have wept as her desire skyrocketed while he traced her lips without penetrating her once again. Around and around, he circled and swiped and fondled and brushed and edged and, and, and...

And at long last, one digit pressed against her cunt while his thumb strummed her clit. She canted her hips, and his finger breached her for the first time. Hermione's head swam, dizzy with her success.

Gasping at the feeling, she thrust further, taking in his whole, long finger. Her walls pulsed, seeking for more. As she attempted to hump herself on his hand, Draco caught her hips and held her agonizingly still.

"No. Patience," he ordered. She restrained herself immediately at his tone, her thighs quaking around his body with the effort.

Hermione had noticed, when things were going worse than usual for Draco, that he got more domineering, more meticulous, and more exacting, as if controlling certain aspects of his life in their secret, undisturbed bubble in the Room of Hidden Things could bleed over into his day to day reality. At first Hermione had passively allowed the behavior in order to not jeopardise the fragile truce they had begun with. Over time, though, she realised it was freeing for her to not be forced to be the one to make decisions all the time. And never once was he cruel to her like she had expected he might be. That he might be similarly assertive during physical relations had not occurred to her, but she found that it appealed to her more than she expected.

During her ruminations, he pulled the single finger out, snapping her mind back to the present. Blessedly, he pushed two back in nearly immediately. His thumb tweaked side to side then in circles before settling on figure eights when her breath hitched. Stuck between the unforgiving wood of the cabinet and his sure hands, Hermione was forced to surrender her pleasure to Draco.

"That's it. Hold still. I'm in control, here."

She moaned and writhed her head as she crept close to her orgasm, but Draco kept her frustratingly on the edge, near to but not in jeopardy of falling off the cliff into ecstasy.

"If you come now, will you be able to come again on my cock?" Draco's words rasped against her ear. Nodding desperately, Hermione's cheek brushed against his in her rush to answer him. Anything to end the beautiful torture she was enduring!

Despite her nonverbal response, Draco continued to dangle her on that precipice.

"What was that, love? I want to hear your answer. Will. You. Come on my cock. If you. Come. Now?" He punctuated his words with fierce thrusts and exasperatingly delicate spirals with his fingers. 

Only when she promised out loud that she'd come as many times as he wanted did he finally insert a third finger and press firmly enough against her clit for her to tumble over the edge. Sparks shot through her as she fell, fell, fell, causing bright lights to dazzle her vision, a wave of euphoria trailing behind the initial, heart-stopping orgasm.

"That's it. Come for me. There's a good girl." Draco's husky mantra coaxed her through the galaxy of starbursts and back to the dim Room of Hidden Things where he still held her pressed up against the Vanishing Cabinet he'd been working to fix all school year.

His fingers were still knuckle deep in her spasming cunt, and his other hand continued its bruising grip on her hip.

"Draco, please, now. I need you." Hermione lifted her glazed eyes to meet his: sharp, bright, and hot. A choked groan from his chest followed her plea.

Slowly, he removed his fingers from her core with a wet sound and a hollow feeling where she craved fullness announcing the movement. He pumped his cock twice with his glistening fist before lining up his head. 

Adjusting his angle, Draco lifted Hermione off the ground. As she settled in his arms, he slid into her.

Hermione's walls spread around Draco's girth, and she was thankful he went slowly to accommodate her. He pushed in, in, in, and for a moment, Hermione wondered if he would ever bottom out. She was so full and stretched that she was amazed it wasn't painful.

Then, with a gasp and a bump of his hips against hers, Draco stopped, fully inserted in her.

An overwhelming emotion welled inside Hermione, bubbling up from her chest, as she focused on the feel of his cock in her cunt. They were connected, the two of them, as she'd never dared to hope they would be. She clenched down on his cock, just to memorise the shape of him and how her body moulded around it.

That squeeze was like starting sparks, and suddenly Draco was moving. He thrust into her abruptly before dragging back and rolling into her again, a short, staccato rhythm set as his pace. His hands gripped her arse, pulling her cheeks open and giving his thick dick more room to move.

Quick, jolting moans escaped Hermione's mouth as she relaxed onto him, gripping his cock every time he drew out and welcoming his length each time he plunged home.

Their mouths searched for each other in tandem, lips trailing along skin, tasting the salty tang of sweat, before meeting in a greedy kiss. Lips, teeth, and tongues tangled together with breathless gasps to connect themselves intimately as much as carnally.

Heady with lust and love, Hermione felt like she was floating, a balloon rising high into the atmosphere, ready to pop into a cloud of confetti and bliss.

Draco took her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down, that extra jolt of pain acting as a needle to burst her and send her careening through the air. Her limbs tensed and seized, her back arched, and her eyes pinched closed while her mind spiraled down and down and down from the heavens until she was slumped in his arms, mewling his name against his teeth.

"Fuck, you're so hot when you come," Draco said, separating them. "Now be a good girl and stand up for me."

Hermione gave a half-hearted protest as he set her down on wobbly legs. She leaned heavily on the cabinet at her back, trying to remain vertical at his demand.

Draco didn't leave her there for long, spinning her around by the shoulder so that her chest and face were pressed to the cabinet door. He tapped the insides of her ankles with his foot, indicating that he wanted her to spread her legs wider. She complied, instinctively rising to the balls of her feet and bending at the hips, showcasing herself to him.

She couldn't see him, but the next thing she felt were his hands on her arse, spreading her once again. Then, his lips caressed her labia. His tongue snaked out and curled around her clit, tasting her, teasing her.

As he slurped his tongue back into his mouth, his right hand moved off her back. It returned to her shortly, three fingers not hesitating to insert themselves back into her cunt with no preamble. He hooked them along her front wall, pressing and rubbing until she felt an odd pressure building in her womb. It was different from the two orgasms before, and she shifted her weight on her feet, trying to alleviate it.

A sharp pinch to her bum had her freezing her movement, but she whined in response.

"Hold still," Draco commanded, and he removed his fingers once again. Before she could think to ask what he was doing, his cock was slotted back against her once more.

He took his time filling her for the second time, easing himself in inch by inch. When he was fully seated, he bent down against her back until she jerked, feeling his head bump against that same, inscrutable spot inside her.

She tensed, remembering Draco's order and obeying it without consideration. The urge to grind against him nearly overpowered her, but she trusted Draco and wanted to please him, to make him feel just as free and euphoric and loved as he made her feel. So she remained suspended, her face and chest pinned to the cabinet and her arse and hips restrained against his body, aching for friction.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Draco pulled back and sank in, his cock stroking her inner walls the whole way. In her position, Hermione couldn't so much as twitch, completely at his mercy to fuck her as he wished. The thought made her cunt throb with expectation, clenching around his dick as it receded and penetrated leisurely.

She moaned his name, the utterance muffled against the wood of the cabinet.

"You look so good, taking my cock, love. Feel fucking good too." His words were elongated, stretched with the cadence of his thrusts. She wondered if his restrained, fastidious pumping was deliberate to maintain a firm handle on his self-control. She wondered if she could snap that hold, make him feel as at her mercy as she felt at his. She wondered if she could even find the will to flip their roles as he rhythmically prodded that wondrous place inside her.

Hermione’s insides twisted tighter and tighter, every rub against her pressing deeper and harder and faster. Her knees began to shake, but she kept them locked to keep herself from falling over. Even her arms began quivering from the effort and intensity until Hermione was sure even her hair must be standing on end.

Draco's hand wrapped around her, fondling at her breast until he captured her nipple. The smoothness of the wood juxtaposed with the rough calluses of his fingers short circuited Hermione's mind.

She could feel Draco's torso against her back, the way his abdomen flexed with each hump, and his face nuzzle through her mane of hair into her neck. His breaths cascaded along her shoulder, coming in tandem with his movements, faster and harder with each passing minute.

Every nerve ending in her body lit on fire, a slow burn like the wick on a bundle of dynamite. She felt it creep through her veins, sweeping nearer and nearer to her core. Finally, the explosive orgasm rushed through her, the intensity more than her previous one, more than she'd ever thought possible.

She clamped down on Draco's cock, plunged deep within her, pulsating and pumping him as her heart galloped against her ribs. The rush of hot blood through her chest and up into her head roared in her ears and flushed her skin, making her tingle all over. Her mind detonated into a million crystal shards, thoughts completely ripped apart with the force of her rapture.

As she floated back into awareness, the fragments of her mind slowly fitting back together, Hermione noticed that her throat felt raw and scratchy.

"Fuck, you've got some lungs, don't you?" Draco himself sounded breathless and satisfied, almost smug. 

Opening her eyes back up, the side of her face plastered to the cabinet door with saliva, sweat, and her hair, Hermione caught his self-satisfied smirk out of the corner of her eye before he buried his head back into her shoulder. His weight pinned her in place, but something about his posture felt boneless and relaxed. He'd stopped thrusting as well.

When she focused, she could feel him twitching inside her, the full, hard length shrinking minutely with each passing second. He'd come while she was in the throes of her own completion.

They remained connected for only a minute or so longer, their calming breaths the only noise between them. At some point Draco heaved a lung-full of air. He adjusted his hands on the cabinet door on either side of Hermione's face and lifted himself off her, his softening dick slipping out of her with a hot trail of sticky come. Hermione groaned at the loss.

Draco's strong hands on her shoulders gently guided her upright and spun her around to face him.

His mercurial eyes swam with a plethora of emotion: relief, tension, a strange guardedness, among others Hermione couldn't name.

"That wasn't a mistake, right?" The hardness in his countenance was belied by the vulnerability in his tone.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She wouldn’t have regretted what they'd just done even if he'd decided it was the last time he ever wanted to see her and stormed out. That he was concerned at all made her heart flutter.

"No, Draco," she breathed, an uncharacteristically sappy smile tugging at the edges of her lips. "That was…" she trailed off, not wanting to say something vapid like _beautiful_ or _perfect_. "Not a mistake."

Hermione's eyes trailed down from his face to his chest where she zeroed in on the healed but still angry lines that cut across his pecs and abs. Anything that Draco said next was lost to her as she finally saw how extensive his wounds had been. _Harry had caused this._ She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry, scream, or vomit, so she stood transfixed, rooted to the spot like a Muggle statue.

"Oh, no, Granger. Don't start blubbering. I got enough of that from Pansy while I was in the hospital wing."

Hermione jerked to attention.

"I wasn't _blubbering_! And I'm certainly nothing like Parkinson, either!" she sniffed.

Eyeing the scars with her jaw set and brows furrowed, she reached up and placed her palm flat against his sternum. She didn't say it out loud, but she'd never know what his skin looked like unmarred now. Magical scars never faded, she knew. She only had to look at Harry's forehead or her side where Dolohov had cursed her to know that.

"Granger." Draco sounded exasperated. "Potter and I dueled. It got hairy fast. It was really…" He paused as if mentally replaying the duel. "It was intense. I was about to use an Unforgivable on him; he was defending himself… surprisingly well. I was the one who was too slow, and if I hadn't been, I might have killed him." There was no irony or exaggeration in his voice, and his next words were exasperated and commanding. "Let it go. Please. There are other things I'd rather talk with you about than Potter, or even Pansy for that matter."

He stepped away from her, the way he always closed off when he shared more intimate things than he meant to. When he reached for his shirt to cover up, Hermione jolted into action. She reached her hand up and grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Please don't. I-I have scars too, and I like seeing you." Her face was hot with embarrassment, but she held eye contact with him so he would know she was serious. Hesitantly, she moved his hand down to her ribcage so that he could feel her puckered skin for himself. 

When he made contact, she heard the whistle of his inhale. The pads of his fingers explored the edges and length and shape of the jagged scar, but his silver eyes never left hers, a silent promise that he was there, that he wasn't leaving her, unfolding in the space between them. 

After he finished his inspection, he reached for his button-up again. Before she could protest, he wrapped it around Hermione's shoulders, easing her arms into the sleeves and buttoning one button at her chest.

Looking down at her covering in shock, Hermione nearly missed it when Draco stepped into his pants and trousers. When she gazed back up at him, he was half dressed and smirking at her. Self-conscious for a reason she couldn't explain, she straightened her posture and asked, "You said there are things you'd rather talk to me about?"

His smirk turned into a more indulgent smile, and he tucked an unruly curl behind her ear.

"Thank you. For coming back to me. I am going to be alright."

**Author's Note:**

> I am open to concrit, kudos, and all manner of flailing! Thank you for reading, and I hope you liked my fic!
> 
> Check me out on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/grace-lou-freebush)!


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